Impossible Odds
by Videogamer1416
Summary: The march of the Scourge has been ended by blood, sweat, and tears.  The Undead are now on the defensive.  However, they have not given up.  And soon some of the last survivors of the Burning Legion's offensive will face a great onslaught.


Impossible Odds

"The task force is ready for deployment, sire, all we need is your authorization to mobilize," Othar the Lightbringer, a young Paladin that had fought valiantly against the overwhelming might of the Undead Scourge's forces in Eastern Lordaeron. "Thank God Arthas did not take the whole fleet. I swear that boy has lost his mind. Anyway, you have my authorization to deploy," King Terenas replied. "Thank you, your majesty. However, we will need you to sign here…" King Terenas grabbed the sheet from his hand and signed it with ink. "Done." Othar nodded and headed towards Baytown.

Once on the ship headed towards the unknown island shown on no map and not discovered until a recent naval expedition, Othar began his speech to the marines and sailors gathered before him. "Alright men. You all know what we are hear for; to save the noble human, elf, and dwarven races. The Undead are rapidly conquering the mainland. King Terenas has valiantly stayed to prevent chaos from ensuing and await the return of his son. He plans to join us on the island soon, however, should the Undead lay siege to the capital city, he has pledged to nobly stay so that the Undead will not follow him to humanity's refuge. We have brought the greatest minds in Azeroth with us and we hope that they will be able to create a super weapon capable of defeating the Scourge. Even if they are unsuccessful, however, we shall at least have one bastion of human power remaining in the world. And, should the Undead try to bring down that stronghold of the Alliance of Lordaeron, we will fight the hardest we can fight and surely gain victory over them. Is that clear?" "Yes sir," the men called out. "Now, while the Alliance may have our noble kingdom in this name, let us not forget that we are merely the largest of three small parts of the Alliance. Without the dwarves rifles and machinery and the elves magic and combat forces, we could not have prevailed against the savage Orcish Horde, and we would not prevail against the Undead. Speaking of which, intelligence has confirmed rumors of the presence of Ogre, Red Drake, and Forest Troll forces on the island. We believe that these may be part of Warchief Thrall's so-called "New Horde," which broke other savages, including the infamous Grom Hellscream, out of the interment camp, so don't be surprised to encounter Orc opposition as well on the island. We must assure that we take minimal casualties in initial operations so that we will have the strength to resist an Undead assault if necessary and will not be providing them with more corpses for their necromancers during their possible initial landing. For this reason, we are going to start burying the Horde members we kill. It's a bit of a change, but a necessary one to win this war. Any questions?" A resounding silence answered his inquiry.

The Ogre Warlord and his guards slept silently, completely unaware that any hostiles could possibly be nearby. Suddenly, they heard a loud shout coming from a Paladin. "Greetings, Horde members. I come in peace to offer you an alliance against the Undead." "Ha ha, we no ally with puny human. You will make good snack though," the Ogre stated. One of the troll trappers then attempted to throw a net over the puny creature, however, it just went right through. The troll thought something in his native language along the lines of "oh shit!" Suddenly, the small camp of creeps was besieged by three large professional armies. Each one was hit with many thunks by 5 hammers, except the warlord, who was hit by six. Three motars flew through the sky and landed on their leader. Sorceresses slowed the hostiles down a bit. Arrows flew threw trees and struck the still standing creeps, eradicating them. "The Horde just loves to use doubles against us, courtesy of their Blademasters. Two can play at that game though, thanks to this nice staff of illusion the goblins sold us. At least one former race of The Horde realizes that they can't fight us anymore," the Othar commented. The highly effective Elf-Dwarven force and the human leader were soon joined by a large force of knights and proceeded to eradicate the remaining hostile forces on the island with a series of all out frontal assaults. "If only the Second War could've been as easy for us," Muradan the Mountain King though to himself.

Soon, the humans, elves, and dwarves begin making themselves at home. Permanent homes are built and forests are cleared to make way for agriculture. A military base is established on booty bay consisting of a castle, altar of kings, gryphon aviary, blacksmith, workshop, barracks, arcane sanctum, arcane vault, farms, lumber mill, and a shipyard to protect the mainland by acting as a coastal fortress. Peasants contracted by the military begin gold mining and lumber harvesting to provide for the armed forces. Guard towers are built and walls erected to defend the settlement from attack. Lordaeron Navy ships and Ironforge Air Force Gryphons patrol the coast. Everything seems safe and secure. However, overseas someone is seeing a far different image…

"So, these fools think that they are safe from the Scourge because of their small expeditionary force? Ha! Little do they know that on the mainland we have scourged forces of the living many times larger than this one. Sacrificing that Acolyte to have a field of vision provided by the shade he became was definitely a worthwhile investment despite the momentary drop in gold income caused by doing so." Unfortunately that spoiled brat Arthas has turned many of our forces against us. And that bitch Sylvanas that he killed in Dalaran has come back to haunt us, literally! Insolent fools! These Undead will learn some respect for their Burning Legion masters or we will return them to the graves where we found the revolting things! Death to the rebels! Death to the Alliance! Death to the Horde! And more than ever, death to those meddling Night Elves!"

The dwarven hammer thrower, mounted on a gryphon, flew around the perimeter of the island, having another boring day of work. What had first seemed like the most exciting job in the world, serving in Muradin's royal guard, had become routine. "Man, in a way I almost wish some Undead would appear out of nowhere and attack just so that I would have something to do." He got his wish. A massive fleet of ships that looked big enough to him to be from Kul Tiras appeared. At first, he thought it might have just been Alliance reinforcements. However, the Frost Wyrms and Gargoyles flying about the ships confirmed that it was of the Scourge. In stunned silence, he did and said nothing for a while, then yelled "holy shit" and began heading for the mainland.

"What?!" Shel Lightbinder was predictably very distressed about the Undead invasion. "Now calm down, Shel. We need to keep our cool if we are going to deal with this assault." "Cool? How can I can keep my cool when we are on the brink of annihilation? The only cool around here that I will be keeping is when the Frost Wyrms freeze this building," he retorted. "Shut up," Muradan said. "We have to organize our forces now and get the hell out of here. Iron Forge is likely still standing, and we can take shelter there. We have no effective anti-air countermeasures here, and with those frost wyrms, all hope could be lost if we don't leave now." "He's right. Captain, rally all human forces at the southern port!" "Yes sir," the captain, an elite footman, responded. Suddenly, a dismounted knight ran in. "Sir, our air and sea forces have been decimated. The civilians ships are also under heavy attack from the Undead air force, and their moving a blockade of ships." "Get the civilians the hell out of here! Send the other knights to protect the port against their ground forces as long as possible," Othar responded. Many thoughts went threw the three heroes minds. The almost certain extinction of the human and elf races should the city fall, the impossibility of the fight, etc, and felt a great sense of grief at their impossible odds at defeating the Undead themselves. However, they pushed them out of their minds as they prepared to fight.

"This attack has been executed flawlessly," the demon lord thought to himself. "With my gargoyles, battleships, frost wyrms, and frigates, the human-elf fleet was easy pickings, and the gargoyles and frigates made short work of their gryphons. Those fools should've suspected something when they saw my shade. But it was night, and they thought it was illusory since no ships had been spotted on the coast. They were right about the latter. But whether those men saw anything or not means nothing now. They will fall without even the knowledge that anything is left of the Alliance, and that which is will be crushed along with them."

Muradan, though knowing it was futile, threw a storm hammer at a frost wyrm while Sel used blizzard against the flying corpses and Othar used holy light on a ghoul, destroying it instantly. "Come 'ere ya ugly bastards," Muradan yelled at them. Othar normally would have been angry at him for revealing their presence. But now all his rage was directed at the Undead, with "For Lordaeron" being the only thing going through his mind. The entire Undead air strike force turned towards them. Then, the sky blazed with fire, and the undead began getting shelled with machine gun and flak cannon fire. "Reinforcements! Gyrocopters," Othar looked on with glee. In seconds, the whole Undead force was decimated, with not a single casualty. Cannon fire could be heard in the distance. But soon, it stopped. A ship arrived and a mysterious woman dressed in a cloak emerged. "Are you the leader of this task force," was Othar's first inquiry. She simply nodded. "Tha-thank you for saving us," he stammered. Even Sel was astonished for once. "Greetings. I am Jaina Proudmoore." "Jaina? I remember you when you studied at Dalaran. You, a human who appreciates the vast elf knowledge of magic, seem like quite a fitting person to save us. You are truly amazing. Thank you for the rescue." "Thank you," Muradan also said. "Your all welcome," Jaina replied.

The ships were boarded and promptly set sail for Theramore Isle. The four heroes, using gems of true seeing, as well as some regular forces, assured that no shades were with them. "Your fleet is impressive," Othar commented. "Thanks. Although it was in no small part due to the fact that I am trying to defend an island." "I'm sure your father, being a Navy man as well as a great arch mage, is very proud." Jaina began to look sad as the painful memory came back. "Is something wrong," Muradan asked. "I don't want to talk about it," Jaina replied. "I'm sorry if," Othar replied. "Excuse me." Jaina went off to her room to cry. "Women," Sel said to the group. "Shut up you stupid bastard," Muradan told him. "She probably lost her dad to the Undead." "Hmm, vengeance is not part of what Paladins must do. And yet I'd still love to make those demon spawned scum pay." "Oh my God," the arch mage thought to himself. "I hope Jaina didn't hear me."

"Hmm, I wonder why the assault group hasn't reported back. Oh well, colonization is important. I suppose I will just train some more of these mindless corps of corpses to defend my palace," the demon said to himself. "If only those bitches led by Sylvanas hadn't abandoned me. Then I could have at least possessed one of the human peasants with a banshee. They're pretty damn mindless anyway." "That will be quite unnecessary. My elite guard can provide for all your defense needs, provided you surrender immediately." "Who the hell? Arthas the betrayer! Guards!" "You mean the ones riding in my meat wagons right now," the Lich King inquired. A group of abominations appeared in the room. "Welcome to the new Scourge, independent from Burning Legion control, and in fact in command of its former oppressors. Either recognize the fact that the slave-master relationship between the Lich King and the Undead has been reversed or be destroyed. Most of your remaining fellow dread lords now serve me. I suggest you join them." "Fine," he replied. Suddenly, a single arrow hit Arthas, and his own group of Abominations began attacking him. "What?!" I took him little time to mentally answer his own question. "Arthas, you are going to pay for Dalaran and other insults," Sylvanas said. "Where have I heard something along those lines before," Arthas replied. "Oh yeah, from a dead man who guys by the name of Kael." "What?!" Sylvanas shrieked. "Kill him!" But it was too late. Arthas already retreated with a scroll of town portal. Sylvanas ordered her forces after him. However, milliseconds seconds later, they founded themselves entombed in ice, and the structure they were in was promptly destroyed by meat wagon fire. Not a pleasant way to go for them. However, it proved very convenient for Arthas, since he could store their bodies in the same machine he broke them apart with.

Jaina calmed down, and Othar apologized. The group reached Theramore Isle and the people immediately began a rush on the Hotel rooms. "Safe at last!," Muradan declared. But are they?

The End (maybe….)


End file.
